The Memory of Your Touch
by LilyBart08
Summary: He knew he wanted more from his partnership with Bones, but now he was beginning to realize that he needed it. BB. *Complete - an old story that I finally finished*
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I've been lurking for a while now and thought I'd try to write something. Please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or its characters. No infringement is intended.

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Chapter 1

Seeley Booth collapsed onto his living room sofa and expelled a sigh. It had been a long day. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he leaned forward and rested his elbows in his knees. He grabbed the TV remote and began flipping through channels, willing his mind to stop reflecting on the day's events…

_The case had been long and difficult, and both of them were glad to see it finished. Temperance Brennan walked into the Jeffersonian ahead of her partner, her step weary but her mood cheerfully victorious since the case had been solved. Booth smiled to himself as she continued to excitedly rehash the recently completed interrogation that had broken the case._

"_I mean, I knew he did it – I proved it, after all – but there's something so vindicating about hearing a suspect admit their crime, don't you think?" She half-turned toward her partner, who was finding it difficult to resist her enthusiasm despite his fatigue._

"_Yeah, Bones, we did good." The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, knowing exactly what would come next._

"_Well, Booth. We did_ well_. Honestly I don't see why you can never seem to get that right." Her words were teasing as she continued to smile._

"_Maybe I just like it when you go all Grammar Police on me. I'm gonna get you a uniform and a badge and make it official." His smile was fully fledged now._

"_Do grammar police officers get guns?" She asked hopefully._

"_Nope, but they do get treated to Thai food at" – he glanced at his watch – "11pm. You up for it?" He rubbed his hands together and wiggled his eyebrows, drawing a chuckle from Brennan._

"_Yeah, that sounds great. We can get started on paperwork while we eat. You want to call it in?" Booth nodded assent and began to dial as she walked toward her office. Pausing, she turned back. "You know what? Let's just pick it up and eat at my place. You have to give me a ride anyway, and the paperwork can wait."_

_Booth closed his phone and held up his hands, an exaggerated look of incredulity on his face. "I'm sorry, I think I must have heard wrong. Did Dr. Temperance Brennan just suggest that work can wait?"_

_Brennan feigned offense. "I'm not sure I like your tone, Agent Booth. Are you implying that I don't know how to have fun?" She walked toward him slowly, an indignant look on her face._

_Booth loved this playful side of her, which he so rarely saw. "Well, Dr. Brennan, all I'm saying is that most women don't spend their Friday evenings solving crimes and doing paperwork. I mean come on, don't you have anywhere better to be than sitting in a lab with a devilishly handsome FBI agent?" His smirk faded at her reaction. What had he said? They had been teasing each other and suddenly she had begun to frown slightly. With a flash of belated insight, he realized his mistake – Robert._

"_Bones, I didn't mean-"_

"_No, Booth, it's OK, you just reminded me that I really should call Robert. I spoke with him this morning and I told him I'd call if the case was resolved. I guess I should just go home." Her smile was apologetic, and Booth felt a stab of sympathy._

"_Yeah, of course." He smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure he'll want to see you. You guys probably haven't had any time to get together this week."_

_She shook her head, a faraway look gracing her features. "No, I, ah, actually haven't seen him in a while. Things just keep coming up." She smiled softly as she turned back to her partner. "Ready to go?"_

"_Sure, let's get outta here." He returned her smile and followed her to his car, his hand hovering over the small of her back but never touching her._

It was the fact that he hadn't touched her, that's what was bothering him. Why should he feel like he couldn't touch her? He'd done it thousands of times – hell, it had become part of their routine. But as soon as she'd mentioned Robert, the thought of touching her sent feelings of guilt racing through him.

She'd started dating him a couple of months ago – they'd met at some squint gathering. He was a professor at Georgetown, and Booth had to admit there really wasn't anything wrong with him. Not that there was anything particularly _right_ about him, but at least he didn't show any psychotic tendencies.

Was that when it had started? Was it Robert that made him self-conscious about touching her? No, that couldn't be it. Bones had dated other people and he'd touched her then without any strange guilt complexes. Booth thought back on the last few months, trying to figure out why he was feeling this way. He'd known for a while now that his feelings for his partner went deeper than mere friendship, but it had never affected his daily interaction with her. Hell, she'd kissed him and they could still work together.

She'd kissed him. He remembered the soft touch of her lips and the sweetness of her breath briefly mingling with his. For days afterward he wondered if it had really happened. But they'd gone on as they always had – bickering, laughing, and, yes, flirting. It had been a great Christmas, and the few weeks after were just as nice. They were so comfortable around each other, and there was this feeling of sheer contentment he got just being with her. And touching her. He had to admit, he was a very tactile person. He remembered thinking Bones would never grow accustomed to his habit of invading her personal space. But she had; in fact she had begun to reciprocate recently. And it made him feel good – safe and warm and so many other things.

Until Robert. Now he couldn't even touch her without thinking about him. It felt…wrong somehow, like he was trying to steal her away. But he wasn't; all he wanted was to figure out how to bring back the contentment he'd felt before, but he didn't know how. Luckily his problem wasn't causing a significant change in his behavior; Bones hadn't even noticed anything wrong in the last months. He ran his hands through his hair, causing the unruly strands to stick up in every direction.

With a sigh he flipped off the TV, knowing it was not going to provide enough distraction for his overworked brain. Sleep was his only option, and he headed to his bedroom to seek it out.

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Shall I continue? You know what a fledgling fanfic author needs most, don't you? Reviews! 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: A huge thank you to those who reviewed the first chapter. I was inspired to keep it going.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

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The images came to him, unbidden, as he lay dreaming that night. Chestnut hair splayed across his sheets, soft beams of moonlight on porcelain skin…and that feeling of utter contentment. He awoke abruptly, trying desperately to hold onto the feeling. 

Booth often dreamt of his partner, but compounded with his recent frustration it was almost too much for him to think that he could find no solace even in slumber. It hadn't been an erotic dream – sensual, yes, but not sexually arousing. He had simply been holding her, reveling in the way her body fit against him. His fingertips still tingled from their imaginary caresses on her silky skin. No, this was worse than having a sex dream about his partner. Sexual fantasies were, as Bones would say, subconscious manifestations of a biological urge. This was much more difficult to rationalize. Shaking his head vigorously, as if to rid himself of the images, he glanced at his bedside clock: 5:15. Groaning, he flopped back onto his pillow, willing sleep to overtake him. Preferably a dreamless sleep.

No more dreams had plagued him, and he refused to allow himself the indulgence of reliving every detail of the dream as he nursed his second cup of coffee. Instinctively he knew that this dream came closest to the truth of his feelings for Brennan. Erotic fantasies were exciting, but what he felt went beyond sexual attraction, and this dream had captured it. The contentment he felt was the same emotion he had been experiencing during their growing closeness after Christmas. He knew he wanted more from his partnership with Bones, but now he was beginning to realize that he _needed_ it. Needed to feel that closeness with her, to show her love in a way she had never experienced it – nor had he, for that matter. A part of him scoffed at the notion of making a life-altering decision based on nothing more than a dream, but it hadn't been just a dream, really. Oh, his subconscious had projected her into his arms, but the feeling – that feeling that he couldn't get out of his head – that was a memory of something real yet fleeting that had escaped him before he had even recognized it.

Had she felt it too? Did she spend nights dreaming under the spell of this elusive emotion? Booth had to admit that he had no idea; he and Bones didn't always experience emotion in the same way. She was a deeply complicated woman, an enigma wrapped within a conundrum. The thought that she might not share this need for him was a frightening prospect. She cared deeply for him, of that he was certain, loved him in her strange, flawed way. But did she yearn for him as he did her? Did she feel the same contentment during the height of their intimacy as partners and friends? If she had, why had she sought a relationship with Robert when they were becoming so close? Draining his cup, Booth decided to go for a run, hoping some intense physical exertion would subdue his questing mind.

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He had stopped touching her. Other than the incidental physical contact of fieldwork, Booth had not touched her in weeks. Rationally, she knew, there was no reason that this should bother her. His constantly close proximity had made her intensely uncomfortable in the early days of their partnership, but she began to tolerate it, then to anticipate it, and now, if she were to be honest, she welcomed it. Like many foster children, Brennan wasn't as physically affectionate as most, and she counted it a great success that she had gradually learned not only to draw physical comfort from others but had progressed by leaps in her habits of reciprocation. And now he had stopped touching her. She had noticed almost immediately; compared with the closeness that they had begun to share since Christmas, it was a glaring contrast. The timing had not gone unnoticed either – his reticence had directly coincided with Robert's arrival on the scene. 

Robert. She cringed as she recalled the previous evening's events. She had literally forgotten he existed until Booth's words had brought him back to the forefront of her mind. She had called him after Booth dropped her off, and he had tried to coax her into coming over, but she had begged off citing her exhaustion from the case. She had been tired – that was ostensibly true – but she had been so disturbed by her forgetfulness that she couldn't bring herself to see him knowing how easily he was eclipsed in her mind. He was a nice man, he was interesting, and she was attracted to him. So why didn't he cross her mind with any regularity?

Robert's touches were pleasant. She was aroused by them. Yet she hadn't even slept with him. Why hadn't she allowed herself to satisfy a biological urge with this attractive man? There had been ample opportunities, despite their busy schedules, but at every occasion she had made excuses and slept alone. It bothered her how uncharacteristic her recent behavior was becoming. Uncharacteristic, yes. She wasn't the only one behaving strangely these days. Her thoughts returned to Booth.

Perhaps he thought it was inappropriate for him to touch her while she was involved with someone. She dismissed this notion as ridiculous; after all, she'd had other boyfriends. Booth had maintained a normal level of physical contact when she had been dating Sully. She stopped herself. What was a normal level of physical contact between them? That word, normal, had been repeatedly redefined throughout their partnership. Certainly their mistletoe kiss hadn't quite fit even their most intimate definitions of normal. She smiled wistfully, remembering those few seconds with surprising clarity. There had been something so satisfying about being that close to him, to be touching him so intimately – like one of their "guy hugs" but infinitely better.

In the weeks that followed she and Booth had shared an easy closeness that was unprecedented. There weren't really specific moments that she could recall, only a general feeling of…happiness wasn't the right word. It was mildly bothersome that she hadn't been able to definitively quantify the emotion. Particularly since she hadn't felt it in some time. Not since he had stopped touching her.

Should she ask him about it? Clearly something had caused this change in behavior, and it was difficult to argue that it could be something not involving her in some way. Perhaps he was dating someone as well? But no, she felt certain he would have made some reference if that were the case. Weren't partners supposed to be open with one another, to discuss their problems and their fears? She felt a growing conviction that the burden to restore their previous camaraderie lay with her. After all, she didn't want their partnership to suffer. She resolved to call Booth and redeem his proffered raincheck for lunch at Wong Foo's.

A sudden thought made her pause as she began to dial his number. _Was_ their partnership suffering? Their working rapport was effortless, as usual. They bickered, of course, but all in the interest of solving a case. She couldn't think of a single aspect of their working relationship that had been affected. Yet she still felt an irrational compulsion to discover the cause behind his physical distance. Dismissing her doubts, she placed the call and waited for his answer.

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I'm entertaining several possibilites for the next chapter, so constructive feedback is appreciated! 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to Sarcastic102391, Meleigha, GorgeousGummyBear, xHouseLoverx, maza101, danireed, CSI-4077, TemperTemper, riviera41797, insertwickedpennamehere, iamwriter, thepsychosourskittle, and ForAReason for your wonderful reviews!

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

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Chapter 3

Two hours later, Brennan sat at her desk awaiting Booth's arrival. She had decided to invite him to the lab for the purpose of completing their abandoned paperwork. Her professed agenda was not entirely truthful – Brennan fully intended to bring up her partner's odd behavior – but after thinking it over she had decided that informing him of her true intentions for their lunch meeting might make him uncomfortable. She thought this was the fundamental difference between the two of them. Her natural curiosity couldn't be sufficiently satisfied without the kind of directness others sometimes found discomfiting. Booth, on the other hand, preferred a tactful, circumspect approach to questions of a socially delicate nature. While she probably wouldn't be able to manage the level of tact for which the situation called, she could at least offer him a neutral environment that was essentially deserted on this Saturday afternoon. Just then the tranquility of a "deserted" Jeffersonian was broken as a head poked into her office.

Angela leaned on the doorframe of Brennan's office and greeted her friend. "Hey sweetie! What are you doing here on a Saturday? Didn't you and Booth finish your case last night?"

"Yes, but we wanted to get a head start on the paperwork, so he's going to meet me later." She felt a twinge of guilt for her lie of omission, but there was something about this situation that made her feel certain it should be solved solely between the two partners.

"So no spring picnic with your new beau? It's gorgeous outside!"

Brennan smiled back at her friend. "No, but we made plans to see each other tonight."

"Oh, really? So how is Robert? Do you find him…_satisfying_?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Brennan couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Actually I don't know yet. We haven't slept together."

Angela looked confused. "Oh. Why not? Isn't that your whole theory of dating? Biological urges and whatnot? Oh my gosh, you're really serious about him, aren't you? This is great!" She clapped her hands together and bounced excitedly, but Brennan cut her off.

"No, no, it's really very casual, I just…I don't know…haven't felt much of an urge." Brennan finished her sentenced, feeling puzzled at her own answer.

"Well are you attracted to him?"

"Yes, he's nicely proportioned."

"But you don't want to have sex with him."

"No, I do."

Angela walked to Brennan's desk and leaned on the edge. "Ok, let me see if I've got this straight. You like this guy – and if I may interject, I like him too, he's very nice – but you haven't felt the urge to sleep with him."

"Yes."

"So, if the whole point of you dating someone is to find a potential mate to satisfy these urges you _aren't_ having, then why are you dating him?"

Brennan opened her mouth to respond, but stopped, dumbfounded. "I…" She looked past her friend, deep in thought. "I guess I don't know, Ange." She realized the question had never even occurred to her. "It's just what you're supposed to do, isn't it? When you meet a smart, interesting man and he asks you out, you engage in the socially accepted behaviors that constitute dating." She shrugged.

Angela offered a small smile to her socially challenged friend. "Hon, if you can't tell me why you're dating him – not even for the sex – then maybe you're just not that into him."

Brennan looked stunned. "You're right. I'm not that into him. I'm dating him because I think I _should_ be into him, but really I'm just going through the motions." She looked up at Angela in wonder. "I don't really want to date Robert."

"Well, good for you. I mean, not good for you, I guess. But at least you figured it out now instead of waiting too long and breaking the poor guy's heart."

Brennan was bemused. "Ange, it is physically impossible to 'break' someone's heart but rejecting them emotionally."

Angela stood from her post at Brennan's desk. "Sweetie, I love you, but I really don't want to get into this with you right now. It's way too beautiful outside to be arguing with a smart person, and unlike you, I have a guy that I _am_ really into who happens to pack a mean picnic." She smiled over her shoulder as she headed out Brennan's door. "Have fun this weekend!"

"You too. 'Bye," she returned absently, lost in her thoughts. Everything she'd said to Angela was true, she knew it was, but why? Why didn't she want to date a perfectly nice, attractive man? For a moment she was overwhelmed by the irrational notion that this was all Booth's fault. Maybe if she wasn't so distracted by her partner's strange behavior she would have more time to concentrate on her own needs. Shaking her head, she mentally rebuked herself. This had nothing to do with Booth.

"Hey, Bones." Torn from her thoughts, her head snapped toward the sound of his mellifluous voice. He was smiling softly, and she returned it almost involuntarily. He held up a plastic sack invitingly and pointed to the couch in her office. "Let's eat. I'm starving." She made her way over to sit beside him as he arranged the containers on the table. His sudden appearance had unnerved her, and as she turned toward him all thoughts of tact and circumspection were abandoned.

"Why did you stop touching me?" The words left her mouth before she could stop them, and a gaping silence stretched between them as his hands stilled in their movements. After several moments he spoke, but his eyes remained fixed on the table before them.

"I don't know." His response was quiet, but laced with emotion. Finally he lifted his eyes to hers and smirked, but there was no humor in his expressive eyes. "I didn't think you'd noticed."

"Of course I noticed." Her response was immediate. "Is this about Robert? You stopped touching me when we started dating."

"Maybe." She could tell he was choosing his words carefully, and it made her want to reach out and grab him by the shoulders. "I guess I felt kind of guilty, you know, being so close to you, when someone else should have that privilege." He was wary of her response to this, and rightfully so.

"That's ridiculous, Booth! I'm perfectly capable of determining who has and hasn't the 'privilege' of being close to me." Her ire had been stoked, and her eyes flared as she continued to berate him. "I trust you as a friend and a colleague, and those relationships have created an intimacy between us that shouldn't be affected by outside entities."

He looked genuinely taken aback. "I'm sorry, Bones. I didn't realize it bothered you so much. Look," he paused and shifted closer to her, taking her hands and engulfing them with his warm palms. "See? I'm touching you." She searched his face, trying to determine if he was mocking her, but saw nothing but sincerity. His next words were raw with emotion.

"Does he touch you like this?" His voice had gotten huskier, and his thumbs began tracing circles on the backs of her hands.

"No." Her heart began to race, and she couldn't bring herself to break eye contact with him.

"How do you feel when he touches you?" His expression begged for her honesty, and she gave it gladly.

"I feel," she paused, wanting to find the right words. "I feel attractive. He makes me feel attractive." His expression was unreadable. "His touch is…adequate, I suppose." He waited, inviting her to continue. She hesitated, not wanting to say what was on her mind but feeling compelled to do so. "He touches me…differently than you do." She squeezed his hands briefly, letting him know she had finished her thought.

His left hand captured her right, turning its palm upward, and the fingers of his right hand stroked the inside of her wrist softly, almost imperceptibly, causing a slight shudder to ripple through her body. "How do you feel when I touch you?"

"Safe." Her answer was immediate. "Warm. Off balance, but in a…comfortable way. I don't really know how to explain it," she finished softly. Her eyes were cast downward, watching the feathery touches of his fingertips. He paused in his ministrations and lifted a hand to her chin, forcing her gaze back to his.

"I feel those things too. And so much more." He let her hands drop abruptly and stood, pacing the floor in front of her. Her eyes tracked his movements. "Bones, I don't really understand what happened between us at Christmas, but I felt something so…" He stopped pacing and turned to face her. "Every time I was around you I felt completely content. And I've never felt that before."

"Me neither," she whispered. Her mind whirled; that was the unnamed feeling – contentment.

He resumed pacing. "But then you meet this Robert guy and, I don't know, I guess I just thought that if you had felt what I felt, you wouldn't be running to someone else." His eyes had darkened with jealousy, and she nearly laughed.

"Booth, I don't want to date Robert. I was talking to Angela earlier, and she made me realize that I'm just not that into him." Booth couldn't suppress a bark of laughter at her inadvertent pop culture reference. He made his way back his former spot on the couch, and Brennan closed the distance so that their thighs brushed together. She met his eyes once again, and he was struck by her sheer vulnerability. "I don't understand what's happening between us either. It scares me."

He opened his mouth to reassure her, but she cut him off with a finger to his lips. "But I know I miss that feeling of contentment." She paused, holding his chin lightly between her thumb and forefinger, keeping him silent. "I don't know what I want, Booth." She sighed and removed her hand, leaning back into the recesses of the couch. He copied her movements and they sat in silence for a few moments. Her next words were hesitant, almost childlike.

"Do you think we could sit here for a while and…just be?" He didn't speak, but he snaked his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into his warmth and shifting to recline against the arm of the couch.

In minutes they were asleep, all thoughts of food and paperwork having vanished in favor of drawing much-needed comfort from each other.

TBC

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This is probably the last update I'll manage until after the Texas primary, but I hope you'll hang in there with me. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry it's been so long between updates – that damn real world is a terrible obstacle standing in the way of what we all know is REALLY important.

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

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Chapter 4 

Booth awoke first, drawn back into consciousness by the warmth curled into his side. He neither knew nor cared how long they had slept. He lay on his back, one arm holding her close to him as she lay in her side, pressed against the back of the couch. Her head was secured into the crook of his neck, and he could feel the soft puffs of her breathing on the base of his neck. Her right hand lay on his chest, somewhere near the vicinity of his heart, and he placed his left hand over it, softly stroking her fingers. He was torn between wanting to savor the moment and his desire to see what her eyes would look like after she awoke in his arms for the first time. Unable to resist, he shifted onto his side, facing her. She murmured in her sleep and nuzzled his neck, sending shivers racing down his spine. Booth softly stroked his fingers up and down the length of her arm, trying to gently bring her around to wakefulness. He pulled back to see her face, watching her eyelids flutter, then feeling his heart clench as she opened her blue eyes and blinked, trying to bring him into focus.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice rough with sleep.

He glanced at his watch. "2:30."

She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I guess we should get up." She made no movement to sit up, instead placing her hand in its former resting place over his heart. "It was nice sleeping that way. Feeling your heart beating like that, it was very soothing."

Booth smiled a crooked grin. "Yeah." He clasped her hand in his and brought it to his lips, barely brushing them against her knuckles. Their faces were inches apart, and he thought he could see her heart rate increase from her pulse point. "I dreamed about this, you know." He continued to hold her hand, lacing their fingers together.

"You dreamed about taking a nap with me in my office?" She looked bemused.

"No, not exactly. I dreamed about waking up next to you." She blushed and he wondered if he should have refrained from sharing this with her, but her next words reassured him.

"Me too." Her voice was barely a whisper, and their eyes remained locked on their entwined hands. Sensing her growing discomfort with the intimacy of the situation, Booth decided to lighten the mood.

Smirking mischievously he added, "of course, you were wearing a lot less clothing and – OW!" His exclamation was involuntary as she twisted his wrist in an uncomfortable manner. She released it immediately and he rubbed the injured area, scowling. "Jeez, Bones, was that really necessary?"

She shrugged, her eyes betraying her mirth. "You were being inappropriate. Just thought I would let you know that you weren't being very professional."

His smirk returned. "You know, Bones, some people would consider two partners sleeping in each other's arms for two hours a little unprofessional."

She returned his smile. "Well then I guess we're lucky there's no one around to misinterpret this as inappropriate behavior." Booth frowned and she worried she'd said something wrong.

"Help me out here, Bones, because I want to make sure I understand my boundaries. Would this be considered unprofessional?" He reached out with one hand and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, making sure to graze its entire length with his fingertips. He could feel her shudder, and it reassured him to know that she was as affected by him as he was by her.

She recovered quickly. "No, I don't think that would be inappropriate. You were, after all, only helping keep my hair out of my face. Very important in field work." Her expression was serious, and he fought to keep his face similarly solemn.

"Very important, yes. Ok, what if I were to do this?" He closed the distance between them to place a lingering kiss on her cheek while his hand caressed her neck. Her eyes closed and she sighed, enjoying the onslaught of sensations he was evoking in her body.

Slowly opening her eyes, she cleared her throat. "I don't – I mean, a kiss on the cheek is a common expression of friendship, right?" He nodded eagerly. "Well I think it should be expected that partners will show each other friendly gestures from time to time."

Booth's voice lowered to a husky timber. "You're right, we could probably get away with being strictly professional even after that." His eyes searched hers, and she immediately knew what he was saying. He was asking her permission. If it was what she wanted, he would let her pull away and continue on as if nothing had changed. But if it was what she wanted, then they would cross this line – and there would be no going back. He watched as her eyes went wide, but he didn't see the fear he had expected, only the openness of vulnerability that made his heart swell. Seeing her silent acquiescence, he spoke with quiet confidence.

"Temperance, close your eyes." She obeyed immediately. "Do you trust me?" She nodded. Booth leaned into her, his body touching hers in every possible place; a light touch – apparent but not insistent. His hand reached between them to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. His lips grazed her opposite cheek, then moved to her forehead, then the tip of her nose. He paused, watching as her lips parted in anticipation, then slowly brushed his lips against hers. She remained motionless, content to allow his gentle exploration. His own eyes slid shut, overwhelmed by the sensations caused by this slightest of touches. Parting his lips, he kissed her upper lip, brushing his bottom lip against it to create a maddeningly light friction. He moved to her lower lip, giving it the same attention. Unable to resist the temptation, the tip of his tongue darted out, swiping slowly along her lower lip, tasting it. Her whimper encouraged him, and he continued to trace her lip with his tongue before drawing it completely into his mouth and lightly scraping his teeth across its surface. He released it reluctantly, pulling away with one last peck. She gave a soft sigh and slowly opened her eyes. Booth almost gasped at the intensity he saw in those pools of blue, darkened by passion. What he did not see, once again, was fear.

"Booth," she whispered, reaching for him and slanting her mouth over his. All vestiges of gentleness were gone, leaving only raw passion in this embrace. They both moaned as their tongues met, creating an electric spark that jumped between them. Booth shifted her below him, settling into the vee of her thighs as she opened to him. He propped himself on his elbows, trying not to crush her, but she grasped at his shoulders frantically, encouraging him to settle his weight fully upon her, causing them both to groan at the friction. They broke apart gasping, but Booth refused to be hindered by oxygen deprivation, moving his lips across the line of her jaw and down the column of her neck, snaking his tongue across her smooth skin. Her hands wound their way into his hair, anchoring him against her as he nipped his way down to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, lightly sucking on the soft flesh he found there. Her breath hitched and she scraped her nails against his scalp, spurring him on. Pulling one hand from her soft tresses, he tilted her head to the side, allowing him better access as he worked his way back up her neck toward her ear. Nuzzling the lobe, he planted soft kisses on the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Oh God, Seeley," she panted, sending a thrill of arousal through his body at the sound of his name coming from her lips. Tugging him by the hair, she brought his mouth back to hers for another breath-stealing kiss. Winding her legs around the backs of his thighs, she pulled him flush against her, creating a delicious friction where she wanted him most. He moaned into her mouth and thrust against her, causing her grip on his shoulders to clinch involuntarily.

Booth cell phone chirped, breaking the spell between them. They pulled apart reluctantly and sat up, chests heaving from their exertions. The phone continued to ring, but he made no move to answer it. Turning back to Brennan, his breath caught at the sight before him. She was gorgeous: hair mussed, eyes glazed, and lips swollen. He felt a surge of masculine pride thinking that it was _his_ kisses that had made her look this way, _his_ touch. He smiled, thinking he probably presented a similar picture. She mirrored his smile, and they passed a few moments in silence as their racing hearts calmed.

"Wow," he finally managed. "That was…"

"Highly unprofessional?" she quipped.

He chuckled. "Yeah, that was definitely inappropriate. I'm really ashamed of myself." They continued to grin widely at each other, neither wanting to break the euphoric mood that prevailed. After a long pause their smiles faded and they spoke together:

"So-"

"Booth-"

Booth gestured at Brennan. "You go ahead."

She gave a brief, tight smile. "Booth, I don't want to ignore what just happened. I'm excited and terrified and," she paused, blushing, "_incredibly_ aroused by what just happened." He smiled bashfully in response. "But," her expression darkened slightly, "I need to see Robert tonight and talk to him before we explore this any further. He's a nice man, and he deserves to hear the truth from me."

Booth nodded, taking took her hands in his. "I understand." He paused, staring down at their clasped hands. He bit his lip, trying to decide if he should ask the question that burned in his mind. "What exactly is the truth, Temperance?" He raised his eyes to meet hers, and saw a brief flicker of panic mirrored there. He backpedaled immediately. "I don't want to pressure you. I just want to know what you're thinking."

She sighed and looked away. "Booth, the truth is that I don't know what these feelings mean. I don't know how to categorize them or-or label them, because I've never felt this way before." She turned back to him, her eyes betraying her insecurity.

He smiled reassuringly. "That's all I want to hear." She looked confused. "I just want to make sure that it feels right. Everything else we'll figure out later." She returned his smile and squeezed his hands before releasing them and standing.

"I should probably go." She walked to her desk and gathered her things before turning around to see him standing by the door shuffling his feet. "What?" she asked, amused by his nervous behavior.

He bit his lip again and squinted. "Would it be really inappropriate for me to kiss you goodbye?"

She laughed aloud at his antics as she approached him. "Booth, I just made out with you on my couch. What made you think I wouldn't let you kiss me goodbye?"

He shrugged. "I just didn't want to assume anythi-"

His response was cut off by her lips pressed against his. Recovering quickly, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, bringing her to her tiptoes. The kiss was brief but thorough, and they were both left breathless once again. Stepping back, she smiled cheekily and turned to leave the office.

"See you later, Booth," she called over her shoulder.

"Bye," he breathed, watching her retreating back.

* * *

Ok, guys. I need your help. I'm trying to figure out if I should end it here or keep going. I can't decide if there's more to this story. Let me know what you think. Help me grow as a fanfic author. Nurture the blossom of my creativity. Be the flavoring in my authorial recipe. You get the picture - press the button. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I was inspired to revive this story by anteffy1. Thank you for reminding me that every story deserves an ending

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

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Chapter 5

Brennan paused at Robert's door to collect herself. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. After a few moments she heard movement inside and locks being thrown before the door opened. He smiled, clearly surprised at her arrival.

"Temperance, what a lovely surprise. I thought we were going to meet at the restaurant?" Robert stepped aside to allow her entrance.

"Yes, I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, but I needed to talk to you," she turned to face him, and his smile faded as he saw her solemn expression.

"Is everything alright? Please," he gestured to the couch in his living room, "sit. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you." He sat beside her, his body turned toward her, an expectant look gracing his features. She mimicked his posture. "Robert, I came to tell you that we can't see each other anymore." His expression was unreadable, but the disappointment was palpable in his words.

"Temperance, I don't understand. I thought you'd enjoyed the time we've spent together. Have I done something to upset you?" He looked thoroughly confused, and she smiled softly in return.

"No, not at all. You've been wonderful company, and I have enjoyed spending time with you." She paused, searching for the right words. "But I recently realized that I have feelings for someone else." She met his gaze, expecting surprise and possibly anger, but instead she saw a knowing smile.

"It's your partner, isn't it?" Brennan gaped, fumbling for a response.

"What makes you think it's Booth?" she asked, well aware that the pink tinge on her cheeks would easily give her away.

Robert smiled again. "The way you speak of him, I can tell you care for him very deeply."

"I-," Brennan was at a loss for words. How could he possibly know that? It was frustrating to think that a relative stranger had seen the truth of her feelings for Booth before she had. "Why did you get involved with me if you thought I might have feelings for someone else?"

He sighed. "Because I thought maybe if you spent time with me, got to know me, you might develop similar feelings for me." He chuckled mirthlessly. "I think there was a part of me that knew it wouldn't happen, but you're an extraordinary woman, Temperance, and I wanted to give it a try."

Touched by his honesty, she placed a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Robert. I would never have started anything with you if I had fully understood my feelings for Booth." He placed a hand over hers and smiled.

"Do you understand them now?"

She sighed. "No. But I'm trying to. It's difficult for me to allow myself that kind of vulnerability with someone, even someone I trust as much as Booth." She hesitated, feeling awkward. "You probably don't want to hear about all of this."

He smiled, his eyes warm. "I'd like to think that whatever we had together helped you realize what you have with Booth. While that certainly wasn't my original intention for our relationship, it's nice to think that being with me has made a positive impact on your life, even if it didn't really have anything to do with me."

"It has." She returned his smile and gave his arm a slight squeeze before rising from the couch to move to the door. He followed, opening the door for her. She turned to him, wanting to convey the depth of her gratitude for his understanding. "Thank you, Robert. For everything." Taking a step toward him, she kissed his cheek briefly before leaving.

* * *

Booth stood at the hostess stand and willed his feet to stop pacing. He and Bones had decided to go all out for their first date, and he had arrived early in anticipation. The restaurant was fancy, but not pretentious, and Booth was glad he had settled on his new Armani for tonight. At the sound of the door opening, he glanced around for what felt like the thousandth time, only to be disappointed once again.

Also for the thousandth time he asked himself why he was so nervous. After their afternoon makeout session he had no doubts that she shared at least some version of the feelings he had for her. Hell, she had broken up with a perfectly nice guy for him. No, he corrected himself, not for him, for herself. He smiled to himself, imagining what the fiercely independent Temperance Brennan might say if she had heard his thought.

Perhaps his anxiety stemmed from the thought that he might somehow screw things up. After all, Bones was nothing if not skittish when it came to intimacy. Their earlier conversation had been encouraging, but he was sure she still harbored some insecurities about pursuing a relationship with him. He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. It certainly wouldn't help the situation if she perceived any discomfort on his part.

Using the glass door's reflection, he ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down any rogue strands. Placing his hand in front of his mouth, he exhaled. It simply wouldn't do to have bad breath on their first date.

* * *

Brennan checked her reflection in the car's visor mirror. Though she did put quite a bit of thought into her everyday appearance, she didn't like to think of herself as one who primped excessively. Even now, as she ran a finger under her lashes to smooth her eyeliner, it seemed silly to go to all this trouble for Booth. She already knew he found her attractive; a wave of arousal washed over her, unbidden, as she recalled the afternoon's events and the evidence of exactly how desirable she was to him. This was different, tonight was different. She had never picked out an outfit and stood in front of a mirror with the thought that she was dressing for _him_. It had pleased her to think of it in that way, she was surprised to find.

As she exited the car and began walking toward the restaurant, her heart felt unnaturally high in her chest. A ridiculous thought, of course, but nonetheless the feeling remained: a tight kind of nervousness that was exciting at the same time. It was daunting to think that tonight's events might hold particular weight in determining the course of their relationship thereafter. She tried to dismiss the thought, but found she could not. She felt silly, assigning so much meaning to a single dinner date, but at the same time she knew it was important not to forget the possible ramifications of a relationship with Booth.

A thousand scenarios had played in her head since they had parted in her office just a few hours before. What if they were unable to work together due to their personal relationship? What if their dynamic changed in such a way that it made them less effective in doing their jobs? What if Booth were reassigned? And the question that had plagued her the most: what if the relationship didn't work?

Sweets had often commented on her ability to compartmentalize different elements of her life, but she knew innately – a "gut feeling," she thought wryly – that being with Booth would mean changing, in some form or fashion, her entire approach to the world. The thought of turning her life upside-down for a man was a prospect the Temperance Brennan of years past would have scoffed at. Was it worth risking everything for something that could potentially end so badly?

Now within sight of the restaurant, she tamped down the rising sense of panic that had afflicted her periodically throughout the day. Looking up as she drew near the doors, she stopped short at the sight before her. There stood Booth on the other side of the glass, oblivious to her approach. She watched as he squinted at his reflection, patted down his hair, and checked his breath. As she watched him indulge in a moment's vanity, a sense of calm enveloped her and she smiled softly. This man, she thought. Not just _a_ man. _This_ man was worth it.

* * *

Booth had his back to the doors when Brennan stepped inside, but he turned at her voice.

"Hi."

She stopped several feet in front of him and watched as he took in the sight of her…or rather _drank_ in the sight of her. She wore an emerald cocktail dress with a deep neckline and thin straps revealing an expanse of shoulders and delicate skin. It was a rare occasion for Booth to see her like this, but it was an entirely new experience to see her like this without the hassle of being surrounded by tedious museum patrons at some charity gala. He realized he must be staring, and recovered himself.

"Wow, Bones, you look amazing." She beamed at his compliment and returned his scrutiny, looking him up and down. The man could wear a suit, no doubt about it. Her eyes lingered over his broad shoulders, then worked their way down his solid chest and tapered waist. Booth raised an eyebrow in amusement then held his hands apart, presenting himself with a flourish.

"You look very good as well, Booth." He looked pleased with himself. He hesitated, then stepped forward and drew her into a hug. Her small arms found their way inside his suit jacket and wrapped around his waist. They stood motionless for a moment, enjoying the feel of each other that they had gotten just a taste of earlier. He bent his head to her ear.

"I'm really glad you're here." His breath puffed warmly across her skin, and she shivered slightly. "I promised myself I wouldn't put the cart before the horse tonight, and I don't want to pressure you, but I want you to know how happy I am just to be with you right here, right now."

Her grasp tightened at his words, and she felt the anxiety in her chest loosen further. "I'm happy to be with you, too." She breathed the words into his neck, then inhaled a deep lungful of his scent: soap, aftershave, and something else that was distinctly Booth.

They pulled away from each other reluctantly, but Booth let one hand linger on her shoulder, then softly ran his fingers down the length of her arm and grasped her hand in his. He turned toward the hostess stand, pointing. "They're holding a table for us, you ready?"

Her eyes left their clasped hands and she smiled up at him. "Yes, Booth, I'm ready."

END

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I'm not particularly satisfied with the way it turned out, but it least it has an ending now!


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